Dying Light 2: Volatile Virus

The Bazaar stood in tense silence, the weight of Draemir's words pressing down on every survivor.

Aiden could see it.

In their eyes. In their uncertainty, their hesitation.

Some were still paralyzed by fear.

Some were waiting for someone else to act first.

But others… were already moving.

A woman—the same one who had **taken the vial before—**stepped forward first.

She wasn't afraid anymore.

She was ready.

Hesitant Survivor:

(Her voice was quiet, but clear.)

"I'm coming."

Aiden nodded once.

Then—another man.

Young Survivor:

"Me too. I don't care how crazy it sounds. If there's a chance at something better, I'm taking it."

One by one, more people stepped forward.

A mother, holding her child's hand.

A young man gripping a backpack, eyes filled with determination.

An older survivor, shaking slightly but stepping forward nonetheless.

It wasn't everyone.

It wasn't even half.

But it was enough.

Aiden looked at the remaining survivors.

The ones who hadn't moved.

Some were still processing everything.

Others were glaring. Unmoving.

One of them—the man who had doubted him from the start—was shaking his head.

Skeptical Survivor:

"You're all idiots." (His voice was filled with frustration, with anger.) "You think you can just follow a stranger and his trained monsters into a better life? That's not how this works."

Aiden stared at him.

The man's hands were clenched into fists.

He wasn't just angry. He was afraid.

But fear wasn't his only problem.

It was pride.

And people like him? They never changed.

Aiden exhaled sharply.

Then, he turned away.

Aiden:

"You made your choice. Now stay out of the way."

The man scoffed but didn't respond.

He knew Draemir's warning was real.

He wasn't stupid enough to test it.

Aiden looked back at the ones who had chosen to come.

Aiden:

"Alright. We leave soon. Gather whatever you need."

Then—he whistled.

The Daywalkers reacted instantly, their glowing bodies shifting slightly, sensing the change.

They didn't need words.

They already knew the journey was about to begin.

And now…

It was time to lead these people to a new life.

The Journey to Solara – A Path of Light and Blood

The survivors stood gathered outside the Bazaar, their eyes filled with a mixture of hope, fear, and uncertainty. Families clutched their belongings. Parents held onto their children. Even some Peacekeepers had chosen to follow Aiden, leaving behind the life they knew to chase something **they had never dared to believe in—**a real future.

Behind them, the ones who chose to stay began whispering, voices spreading through the ruins of Villedor like wildfire. News would travel. The entire city would soon know what had happened here.

But Aiden wasn't concerned with that now.

He turned to his people.

It was time to move.

As they set out, Aiden felt something strange.

The path back. He had walked it before. He had used maps, landmarks, instinct—but now, standing at the head of the group, he hesitated.

The way felt… uncertain.

He reached for his maps, just as he had when first traveling to Hartford and when he returned to Villedor. But before he could fully unfold it—

A shadow moved past him.

A Daywalker stepped forward.

It turned toward Aiden, sniffing the air, its glowing golden veins pulsing softly. Then, it lowered itself, nose to the ground, inhaling deeply.

A moment passed.

Then—it moved.

Not randomly, not without purpose.

It took the lead.

Aiden quickly realized—it had picked up his scent. It had smelled his struggles, his uncertainty, his doubt.

And instead of waiting, it decided to guide.

The others followed, trusting their new pathfinder.

Despite the numbers, they moved fast. The Daywalker leading them sniffed the trail Aiden had left days ago, following it as if it were a dog tracking its owner.

Aiden watched closely.

Draemir's words echoed in his mind—they were trained to protect, to guard, to lead.

And now… they were proving it.

They traveled for days, their journey relentless. The Daywalkers never tired.

Then—one night—the growls began.

Distant. Faint. But getting closer.

Volatiles.

Aiden's muscles tensed. The survivors huddled together, whispers of fear spreading among them.

Then, something moved.

Not the Daywalkers.

Something else.

A shadow emerged from the treeline, slithering between the forestation. Its shape was unnatural, fluid—too fast for human eyes to track.

Then—it struck.

From the darkness, tendrils shot out, wrapping around a survivor's torso and legs, yanking them to the ground.

The survivor screamed, thrashing, but the grip was too strong.

Then, Aiden saw it.

The Night Hunter.

Its dark form crouched low, muscles tensed, its inhuman maw slightly parted as if savoring the kill before it had even begun.

But before it could drag the survivor away—

A flash of golden light.

A Daywalker lunged, claws swinging—

SHRIP—!

The Night Hunter screeched, reeling backward, the tendrils severed in an instant.

The survivor scrambled away, gasping, as the Daywalkers moved into formation.

They weren't hunting.

They were guarding.

They had trapped the Night Hunter within a living wall, blocking its approach to the survivors.

Draemir had trained them for this moment.

Their stance wasn't random—it was defensive.

A moving shield.

The Night Hunter growled, circling the group, eyes flickering, its mind calculating.

Then—it attacked.

The Battle of Beasts

The Night Hunter dashed forward, claws extended—

The Daywalkers met it.

One lashed out, claws slicing through the air, but the Night Hunter dodged mid-motion, its body moving like liquid shadow. Another struck, landing a glancing blow across its shoulder, but the Night Hunter retaliated instantly—a brutal slash across the Daywalker's chest, sending it skidding backward. Two Daywalkers flanked, their glowing bodies weaving together in sync, forcing the Night Hunter to backpedal—it was fast, but it was outnumbered.

Yet—the battle wasn't in their favor.

The Night Hunter was stronger. Faster.

The Daywalkers were trained, but they weren't as brutal, as unpredictable.

One by one, they were getting injured.

Then—a critical moment.

The Night Hunter lashed out again, its tendrils wrapping around a single Daywalker, locking it in place.

The Daywalker fell, pinned, thrashing.

Then—the bite.

Its jaws clamped onto the Daywalker's neck.

A burst of blood—

A sharp, wet sound—

Aiden's eyes widened.

But then—something happened.

The Daywalker's body twitched.

Its veins pulsed brighter.

Then—cracks formed.

Golden cracks. Growing. Spreading.

Its entire body fractured like shattered glass, the golden light leaking out—

And then—it exploded.

The Light That Burns the Dark

A blast of pure sunlight erupted from the fallen Daywalker's body—

The night turned into day.

For a single moment, the entire forest was bathed in golden radiance, the light searing through the darkness like a second sun had risen.

The Night Hunter reeled back, its skin burning, its body disintegrating.

It screamed.

A horrid, guttural, suffering wail.

The survivors shielded their eyes.

Even Aiden was temporarily blinded.

Through the brightness, he heard it—

The Night Hunter's injured howls.

Then—he saw it.

The creature was ablaze, its flesh evaporating into ash.

It ran.

Into the trees, screeching, burning, thrashing through the forest, its agony stretching into the night.

The Daywalkers pursued.

Shadows flickered between the trees. Golden-glowing bodies chased through the darkness. Screams faded into the distance.

Then—silence.

Aiden blinked, his vision slowly returning.

The Daywalkers emerged from the trees.

They were injured. Bleeding.

But they had won.

Returning Home

They traveled again, through day and night.

As morning broke, Aiden saw how the Daywalkers, injured before, had healed.

Absorbing the sunlight.

Draemir's gift was real.

And soon enough…

They reached the sewer entrance.

Aiden hesitated, looking at the entrance, then back at the survivors.

Then—he stepped forward.

They followed.

Through the tunnels, through the darkness, through the last stretch of their journey.

And then—they arrived.

Aiden stepped into the sanctuary.

He took a deep breath, then called out.

Aiden:

"Draemir! I arrived!"

For a moment—silence.

Then—footsteps.

From the shadows of the sanctuary, Draemir emerged.

Draemir:

"Welcome back, Aiden." (His golden gaze swept across the survivors.) "And welcome, all of you… outsiders."

(He spread his arms slightly.)

"I am Draemir, the God of the Sun."

"You are in the sanctuary of the God of the Sun, in Aurenshaven, Solara."

And now, a new life would begin.

The Arrival of the Chosen

The survivors stood frozen, their eyes darting between the towering figure of Draemir and the vast sanctuary they had just entered. Some still held onto their fears. Others looked in awe.

They had come all this way, risking everything.

Now, they stood before the God of the Sun.

Aiden exhaled sharply, stepping forward.

The Daywalkers, still injured but standing tall, moved beside him. Their golden-lit veins pulsed faintly, absorbing the sanctuary's energy, recovering from the battle.

The survivors whispered among themselves.

"This place is real..." "It's nothing like I imagined." "Look at them… they're not attacking."

The atmosphere was heavy. Some survivors were still hesitant. Even after everything, after seeing the Daywalkers fight for them, after watching a Daywalker sacrifice itself to kill the Night Hunter—some still doubted.

Aiden clenched his jaw.

He had led them here. He had delivered them.

But now…

They had to decide for themselves.

Draemir stepped forward.

It was time for him to speak.

Aiden felt his chest tighten.

He had known this moment would come.

Draemir's golden gaze was sharp, unwavering. His voice held no anger, no blame—just expectation.

He had counted. He already knew one of his own had fallen.

The survivors remained silent.

Even the Daywalkers, standing beside Aiden, seemed to pause—as if awaiting judgment.

Aiden inhaled slowly, steadying himself.

Then—he met Draemir's eyes.

Aiden:

"We were attacked." (His voice was firm, but there was a weight behind it.)

"The Night Hunter." (The words alone sent a ripple through the survivors—some shivered, others averted their gaze.)

"It ambushed us. The Daywalkers fought it off, but… it was stronger. Faster. It started overwhelming them."

(Aiden clenched his fists slightly, remembering the fight, the way the Daywalkers had struggled—but never backed down.)

"It managed to trap one."

(His jaw tensed, the memory flashing in his mind—the Night Hunter's tendrils wrapping around the Daywalker, pinning it, then that brutal, horrifying bite.)

"But…" (His voice slowed, shifting.) "Something happened. Something… I've never seen before."

(He took a breath, eyes flickering toward the surviving Daywalkers.)

"When it bit the Daywalker… its body reacted. It cracked. Glowed. And then…"

(He hesitated for a brief second before finishing.)

"It exploded."

(Gasps rippled through the survivors. Some took a step back—the very idea was incomprehensible.)

"The explosion—it was like the sun itself. For a moment, night became day. The Night Hunter burned… and ran. The others chased it down."

(His gaze darkened slightly.)

"It's gone, but… we lost one. One of yours."

(Aiden's voice remained firm, but there was an underlying weight in his tone. He didn't regret what had happened—it was war. It was survival. But he knew this loss… meant something deeper to Draemir.)

He took a slow step forward.

Aiden:

"I take responsibility." (His voice was steady.) "They were under my command. They protected the people I brought here. They fought, and they won."

(A slight pause.)

"But it cost them. And it cost you."

He stood tall, unwavering.

Waiting for Draemir's judgment.

The Truth of the Daywalkers & The Burden of Revenge

Draemir hesitated for a moment, his breath steady but deliberate.

Aiden watched closely, seeing the slight shift in the way Draemir carried himself. This wasn't just about a fallen Daywalker anymore.

This was about Crane.

Draemir finally spoke.

Draemir:

"So... Crane is still alive. And… free."

A heavy silence settled over the sanctuary.

The survivors didn't understand the weight of that name. But Aiden did.

And the Daywalkers did.

The surviving Daywalkers lowered their heads slightly, their golden veins pulsing as if reacting to the emotions radiating from their leader.

Draemir inhaled again—deep, measured.

Then, he continued.

Draemir:

"Maybe… I should tell you. Yes, it is sad a Daywalker has died, but… it died accomplishing its mission."

Aiden noticed a shift in Draemir's voice. There was sadness, but not regret.

Because this was something Draemir had already prepared for.

Draemir:

"I… I didn't train them just for what I told you. I trained them… mutated them… to become like me. Training them as GRE trained me."

Aiden felt a slight chill.

This wasn't just mutation.

This was purposeful evolution.

And what happened to the fallen Daywalker… wasn't an accident.

Draemir's next words confirmed it.

Draemir:

"What you saw… is what I like to call… Beacon of Hope."

Aiden's breath hitched slightly.

A kamikaze ability.

A final act of sacrifice—triggering a sun explosion, burning with the same intensity as the sun itself.

The Night Hunter never stood a chance.

Draemir:

"It was a sacrifice… to save more. To take down the threat."

Aiden looked at the surviving Daywalkers, understanding them in a new way.

They weren't just guardians.

They were weapons.

Weapons with a final resort.

And if they had to use it… they would.

Draemir exhaled slightly, his golden eyes narrowing.

Draemir:

"Aiden… thank you for telling me they fought against Crane." (His voice darkened slightly.) "Now I know… the situation is worse than I could've expected."

Aiden's jaw tightened.

Draemir had tried to end Crane before.

And because of the GRE… he failed.

Now, Crane was loose.

And what he could become… was a danger no one was prepared for.

Draemir's voice lowered slightly, a bitter edge creeping in.

Draemir:

"If I'm being honest… I'm not even sure what I could've expected from the GRE. Because of them, Crane escaped my grip."

(Aiden could see the frustration in the way Draemir stood, the way his claws subtly flexed. This wasn't just unfinished business.)

"I was left in the line of obtaining my revenge. For those he abandoned."

Aiden knew what he meant.

The Tower. The people of Harran. The ones Crane failed to save.

And now, he was out there somewhere.

Mutating.

Becoming something else.

Draemir:

"I don't know what the GRE will do, what they have planned, or even if they still exist… but I will have to take action." (His voice hardened.) "With my own hands."

Aiden knew what that meant.

Draemir wasn't just thinking about Crane.

He was going after him.

Draemir:

"Before Crane mutates any further… I have to end this."

(A deep inhale.)

"But this will take a few days to fully set up."

Draemir's stance finally shifted, the weight in his voice softening slightly.

Then—he looked past Aiden.

At the survivors.

At the faces of those who had risked everything to come here.

Then, he spoke again.

Draemir:

"But for now… let's focus on giving them the warm welcome they deserve, shall we?"

Aiden let out a slow breath.

The storm was coming.

But for now—

The new survivors of Aurenshaven had arrived.

And it was time to begin their new lives.